


A Brief Glimpse

by Astyan



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Hallucinations, Insanity, M/M, Mentions of Character Death, Other, RP Take-Out, Sensory Deprivation, Starvation, mentions of rape/non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 22:36:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astyan/pseuds/Astyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief moment in the mental descent of Anthony Edward Stark.</p><p>Also can be found on Tumblr under "technogodstark"</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Brief Glimpse

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr. Co-role player - Arctic-laufeyson. Unbeta-ed.

By the time his ‘visitors’ stopped coming, Tony fully hoped the nightmare he was stuck in for some weeks (as far as he managed to keep track), he expected - hoped - the nightmare would end. But days went. The comings - even to deliver food - stopped. One day, the doors remained closed and only the clang of a rusty slot being showed aside alerted Tony to the food being brought in - and he scrambled to the door.

Only to have a heap of something barely resembling sustenance and a bottle of water being showed straight onto the floor, most of it ending up on the grime-covered stone. 

That was fine. Whenever no one came, that was usually the procedure. Minus the locked door. 

But it repeated the next day. And the day after that. No one came. And each time, the same thing would repeat: the sound of rusty slot being pushed aside, and slop being pushed in, oftentimes forcing the engineer to scrap the food off the floor, where it intermixed with things Tony would rather not think about.

By the time the first week of isolation rolled about, Tony was beyond worried. True, there were no injuries to be worried about, not anymore (not since he woke up to unmarred skin and no pain), but everything else - the grime, the stench of unwashed body and waste (the cell wasn’t even planned with facilities in question) were getting to him more than being alone did. In fact, it was preferable to the daily visits and being fucked by gods-knew-what.

But the days went. He was constantly hungry. His body ached - no longer from the ‘work-out’ (as the engineer bitterly named the ocassions he would be forced to play the whore. Honestly, he could probably beat Harkness in the selection of aliens that had gone through him by this point of time), but from sleeping on the harsh stone. At least, the sickly-sweet stench of rot no longer bothered him (nor did the pathetic remains on flesh on the mostly-barren skeleton that belonged to Pepper). 

By the fourth week, the ringing started, the silence pressing on Tony’s ears, and the sensory deprivation forcing his mind to turn on him, conjuring up hallucinations - sometimes pleasant (from back before the shit hit the fan and the Earth - Midgard - was taken over), sometimes a live recounting of the hell he had gone through while in Loki’s 'care'. Those were the times he would scream, and try to fight the phantom attacker off - never succeeding, of course - merely damaging his body when the morok went away and his fists landed onto the stone wall, splitting his knuckles. He tried to tell himself it wasn’t real - but his mind refused to accept that, falling for the tricks again and again. 

Week six. Tony was almost ignoring the phantoms his mind conjured, opting out of the hallucinations by wringing himself out with exercise. At least those, he could still do. And if he sometimes forgot to eat - well, the food wasn’t made for long keeping, even in the chill of the room, but at least there was now enough water to wash some of the sweat and crusted semen and dirt off himself.

Week eleven. The hallucinations were back - but now, /tailored/ to keep him company. Whenever there weren’t absolutely horrifying mood swings that left him alternatively raging (which was when his ex’s remains found themselves showed away from their place in the center of the room and into the far-off corner where he wasn’t forced to pay constant attention to them), or going into complete hysteria and crying like he was catching up on all those years he foregone it. But it was okay. Pepper was there to tell him to snap out of it (he was forgetting about eating again. She was there to remind him not to waste it)

By the time week sixteen rolled around, he was hit with an intense longing for the trickster's company. He, dared he even say, missed him. Pepper was horrified. Yinsen - a recent addition - was sympathetic. It felt good to have someone on his side. 

Week eighteen. He felt sick. Whether with worry or due to his body finally rejecting the slop he was fed, he did not know. What he did know, was that the bottles of water saved from those times he kept away from the slop were well spent washing - at least a bit - the grime off the place on the floor he slept on, and removing the accumulated filth off himself. Yinsen talked him back into moving, exercising - as much as his body protested against that. It helped. He still missed Loki (Heavens knew why. He was the reason he was there). Ont he plus side, he no longer had problems seeing inside the dimness of the cell. That made it easier to take Pepper for a dance when she asked to. And if there weren’t music - well, Tony’s hearing was tuned enough to the minute sound in his machines for him to hum a passable melody aloud.

Week twenty. He felt weak. Sometimes, he even remembered Pepper and Yinsen weren't really there. Only sometimes-and never for long. His limbs looked like skeleton covered in wiry muscles upon which the jewelry - easily removable and a source of amusement, for a while - were jingling mockingly. And then - the silence was broken. And not just by his own voice. The sound was almost to loud for his ears, but it was /sound/ and Tony didn’t mind a little (/raging/) pain it brought - he recognized it. It was too quiet to be the slot - but similar. The doors were being opened, forcing the light in. The engineer was forced to cover his eyes - to bright, all too bright, but the silhouette wasn't. He couldn't help the happy smile that slid onto his gaunt features - nor could Tony stop his body from moving as quick as it could towards it, enveloping the trickster's waist with his emaciated arms. Who cared he couldn't even stand? Kneeling wasn’t such a bad position to be in.

"You’re back" the genius's voice was scratchy from disuse, but /oh-so-happy/. For all of a few moments, before he broke down and started blabbering, the only discernible parts being "Not again", "I’m sorry", ‘Please", "Silence".

All the while, he dared not relinquish his hold on Loki, in fear he would go away like Pepper and Yinses sometimes did.


End file.
